


Flipping Pages

by orphan_account



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Dick riding, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, submissive Sasaki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 07:57:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5084065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Mutsuki’s crush on Sasaki had been growing for months: it started as admiration, then developed into something more. Now, he caught himself studying Sasaki’s lips and the delicate curvatures of his face when they were in the apartment together and daydreaming of Sasaki’s body against his during team meetings. He even watched how Sasaki’s white hair was growing out, now almost entirely replaced with black. Mutsuki was smitten.</i><br/> <br/>One night, Mutsuki starts fantasizing about Sasaki.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> As a trans person, I realize that Mutsuki might imagine himself as having a dick/being flat-chested in his fantasy. But I really wanted to write a fic in which he is comfortable with his body. There really isn't enough fic about Mutsuki being at peace with his body and gender, and I wanted to write something positive!
> 
>  
> 
> _Also, big thanks to Kammy and UnusuallyNormal for helping me write and edit this fic, and thanks to mekhu for the title!_

_Sasaki let his thumb ghost against Mutsuki’s bottom lip. He cupped Mutsuki’s cheek and drew him in for a kiss. Mutsuki responded eagerly. The kiss was heavy and warm, their mouths open and Mutsuki pressing just slightly harder against Sasaki than Sasaki was against him, so Sasaki gave entrance to Mutsuki’s tongue. Mutsuki felt like he was toppling into the dampness between their lips and the warmth they shared._

In his bed, Mutsuki rolled onto his back and huffed quietly. He tried to clear his head by studying the dark ceiling, but the thoughts played through his mind. Mutsuki kept returning to the firm, straight lines of Sasaki’s abdomen and his narrow hips hugged by the fabric of his black trousers. 

He couldn’t tell whether he was jealous of Sasaki or attracted to him; he decided it had to be both. He coveted Sasaki’s lithe grace when he was training: the way he knew exactly where to put each part of his body, the confidence with which he moved through a fight, as if he had experienced every movement before and was just performing a well-learned role. More than that, Mutsuki longed to touch the strip of skin that emerged between the waistband of Sasaki’s sweatpants and the hem of his tee shirt when he reached for the coffee grounds on the shelf on a Sunday morning. 

Mutsuki’s crush on Sasaki had been growing for months: it started as admiration, then developed into something more. Now, he caught himself studying Sasaki’s lips and the delicate curvatures of his face when they were in the apartment together and daydreaming of Sasaki’s body against his during team meetings. He even watched how Sasaki’s white hair was growing out, now almost entirely replaced with black. Mutsuki was smitten.  
  
_Mutsuki set to unbuttoning Sasaki’s shirt. The white fabric fell away to reveal his lean, muscular torso. Sasaki shrugged his shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Mutsuki was seated on the desk in Sasaki’s bedroom, with Sasaki between his knees. Mutsuki twined his fingers in Sasaki’s hair and used his grip to tug Sasaki back in for a long kiss. Sasaki kissed and held Mutsuki with the same surety: his hands were firm and certain against Mutsuki’s waist. He held Mutsuki’s body close to his own naked chest, and Mutsuki drew him in tightly with his legs around Sasaki’s waist._

Mutsuki toyed with the waistband of his sweatpants before pushing them down to his knees. With his own hand, he traced the path that he imagined Sasaki’s hand would take: soft on his waist, then dropping to his navel and then pressing more firmly into his hips. Mutsuki dragged his hand down to the insides of his thigh, enjoying the pressure of his fingertips as he teased himself, inching closer until he ran the tip of a finger against his opening. Warm wetness gathered there and Mutsuki pressed inside first with one finger and then with two. In his mind he thought of Sasaki: his long fingers pressing into Mutsuki, his other hand steadying Mutsuki's hip. A kiss as he slowly moved his fingers in and out, taking time to linger on the spot that made Mutsuki shiver. 

_Sasaki let Mutsuki guide him back onto the bed. Sasaki deftly unbuttoned Mutsuki’s shirt and discarded it on the sheets. Mutsuki stripped off his own undershirt and unclipped his binder, letting both fall._

Mutsuki trusted Sasaki. They had been working together for long enough that Mutsuki looked up to him and considered him to be a figure of safety--hopefully even a friend. He ached for Sasaki to look at him not as a subordinate but as an equal; not as someone to be taken care of but as someone to respect, to be attracted to, to love.  
  


_They had both stripped out of their clothes, and Mutsuki looked down at Sasaki where he sat on the edge of the bed. His dick was half-hard, and Mutsuki reached down to stroke it. Sasaki’s eyebrows knitted together and his breath hitched. He closed his eyes and balled his fists in the sheets as Mutsuki continued to jerk him off._  
  
“I want you to fuck me, Tooru,” Haise groaned, and his voice was strained and desperate. He still showed characteristic restraint, but he was growing visibly tense under the attention Mutsuki was giving him. In response, Mutsuki pushed Sasaki back on the bed. Sasaki scooted up and lay flat on his back, waiting for Mutsuki to make the next move. 

Mutsuki straddled Sasaki’s hips and guided his dick inside of him. 

Mutsuki pressed his fingers into himself hard, but he needed more. He slowly withdrew his fingers and focused his attention on his clit. He rubbed in slow but ardent circles as he imagined Sasaki’s face flushed with pleasure, his eyelids fluttering, and groans escaping from his reddened lips. Mutsuki rolled onto his stomach and let out a low whine into the pillow. He could feel the warmth of his own breath on the fabric and his cheek. 

_Mutsuki lifted his body up and pushed back down quickly on Sasaki’s dick. He moaned freely as he let Sasaki fill him. Mutsuki had wanted for months to see Sasaki like that: thoroughly enjoying himself underneath him; giving way to the pleasure Mutsuki was causing. Mutsuki watched Sasaki nearing his orgasm and enjoyed the friction of lifting himself up and down on Sasaki’s dick. He was getting close, and he could tell Sasaki was, too. Sasaki was babbling Mutsuki’s name over and over, interspersed with curses._

_“Fuck, Tooru, Tooru, you feel so good, please…” he moaned._

Mutsuki let his imaginary soundtrack of Sasaki’s voice push him over the edge. Mutsuki curled his toes and pulled his hips up unconsciously as he came. He coaxed himself through it, his fingers not stopping until the wave of pleasure passed through his body and he was left breathing slowly into the pillow. 

He pulled his sweatpants back up and rolled out of bed to go to the bathroom. It was going to be a brand new challenge to see Sasaki the next morning without blushing furiously.


End file.
